


distance between two points

by thesaddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Angst, Detroit Tigers, Extended Metaphors, Gen, Growing Apart, Growing Up, Lowercase, Male Friendship, Oakland Athletics, POV Second Person, Pretentious, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-04
Updated: 2005-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-18 20:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>about how your best friend isn't your best friend anymore, and you don't even know when everything started to go wrong.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	distance between two points

**Author's Note:**

> Angsty, pretentious, and lacking in capitalization.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

for what it's worth (and you're pretty sure it isn't worth the long distance phone bill you racked up this month alone, talking to his answering machine) you didn't realize he hadn't been returning your phone calls until he actually got around to returning one.

he says, "dude, i've got, like, a million fucking messages on my voice mail and they're all from _you_ ," and he doesn't sound at all pleased to have finally gotten ahold of you. in fact, it sounds a lot like you're the last person in the world he'd rather be talking to right now.

"dude, where've you _been_? i've been going out of my fucking _mind_ , ricky."

"well, excuse the _fuck_ out of me for actually _having_ a life," chavez sneers. "i _do_ have a pregnant wife on my hands, you know. not to mention spring training." the _unlike_ some _people_ is left hanging on the phone line and in the air and distance between you. he doesn't come out and say it, but you know it's there, in between the lines.

"i have a life too, ricky. it would just be nice to get a fucking word from your best friend more than once every six fucking months," you snap back.

"why do you wanna talk to me all of a sudden after, like, avoiding me for the better part of a year? that's not how it goes, munce," he says, tone dry.

"i - what? dude, i haven't been fucking avoiding you!" you reply, and now you sound desperate.

"yeah, the two second 'congrats on your wedding, ricky' really counts as a fucking conversation, dude." you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you from three thousand miles away.

" _you're_ the one who stopped speaking to me for two years because of amber," you remind him.

"oh, like you could fucking _blame_ me? you fucking took _her_ side! you're supposed to be _my_ best fucking friend!" he pauses and draws in a deep breath before continuing. "anyways, real fucking mature, munce. turn this around on me. real motherfucking mature."

"fine, so we're both wrong, okay? can this fight be done now?" you ask, desperate for eric to quit yelling at you. yeah, you might be a millionaire ballplayer, and yeah, you might be a fucking _man_ , and yeah, you might have a wife and a kid, but your best friend screaming at you like you're a stranger who bumped into him on a busy street is a pretty awful fucking feeling.

"i'm pretty good at holding grudges, munce. you of all people know how good i am," and it's not like you've forgotten all the times where eric threatened never to speak to you again, or made you feel just like fucking _dying_ when his eyes got so dark and intense you were sure they'd burn holes into your fucking soul, so you tell him just that. "oh, give me a break, st. fucking munson. give me a fucking _break_ here, dude. i'm supposed to feel _bad_ that i've got a fucking job and you don't? jesus christ. cry me a fucking river."

"jesus christ, chavvy, i don't understand why you're being so fucking hostile. we haven't spoken since christmas. excuse the fuck out of me for wanting to call my best friend," you say.

"hey, munce, did you ever stop to think that maybe i was avoiding you for a fucking _reason_?" eric asks, laughing.

you don't think that anything about this is very funny. "dude, you're my best fr - "

"dude, the reason i've been avoiding you is because i _want_ to avoid you, okay? yeah, real fucking harsh of me, but deal with it. you're a man, get over it."

" _what_?" you feel like you've just been punched in the stomach, kicked in the head. all at the same time. 

eric sighs. "we've been growing apart for _years_ , munce. you're telling me you didn't feel it?"

"feel what?" you're still pretty fucking stunned.

"the - _distance_ , dude. you can't tell me you didn't _feel_ it." eric sighs again, like explaining why he no longer wants you as his best friend is so fucking beneath him, it tires and bores him.

"fuck, ricky. is this about amber?"

" _christ_ , munce! sometimes you just outgrow people. like you outgrow clothes, or your childhood toys. it happens."

"that's not how it should _be_ , eric," you reply. your voice sounds so weird and disembodied. it feels like there's cotton in your ears and in your mouth. and yeah, this must be what an out of body experience feels like.

"it just happens that way sometimes. why force it, dude? we've been growing apart for _years_ ," he says, and you suppose that's how he's rationalizing this. that's how he's making this okay for himself. 

you try to comprehend his reasoning, but your brain begins to hurt. "you outgrow people."

"yes."

"you outgrow your best friend."

" _yes_." he's exasperated now. this is not a good sign.

"you outgrow your brother."

eric falls silent, and you can hear his heavy breathing on the other end. no one says anything for a long time. finally, he blurts out, "i'm sorry, have to go, munce," and he hangs up.

he just hangs up.

*

best friends are like pieces of pottery that go into the kiln fitting together perfectly like puzzle pieces. sometimes the fire makes you stronger and after, you fit together just as well as you ever have before, as well as you ever did, and as well as you ever will. and your friendship is all the more stronger for it. 

but sometimes, sometimes you come out warped and cracked, ill-fitting - or even broken, smashed to dust.

you wonder when you and eric came out of the fire ruined and which one of you is actually broken, which one of you can still be saved.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


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